The Scottish Banker of Surabaya - By Ian Hamilton Page 0,23
bit better, and found out how smart he is and how genuine he is. He wouldn’t hurt a fly; really, he wouldn’t. How he got himself into this mess I have no idea, but I have to tell you, I don’t think it was planned, premeditated.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“I saw him after the shit began to come down. The first time was when he was starting to have trouble making payments. He told me he’d invested all the money and that the returns were slow because the bank was screwing around with new systems. He swore to me that the money was intact, and I believed him.”
“Why?”
“I don’t think he could have been lying. He was obviously troubled about it but he could still look me in the eye. That meant a lot to me.”
“You met him more than once?”
“Yeah, about a week later my uncle came to me and asked to talk to Lam about getting his money out of the fund. I met Lam downtown. He was a mess — shaking, stuttering, not thinking clearly, almost disoriented. He told me he couldn’t sleep and that he was taking pills and had started to drink. He didn’t act like a guy who had salted away millions of dollars and was about to leave with it.”
“What did he say about the money?”
“He said his contract required my uncle to give him thirty days’ notice before withdrawal.”
“Is that true?”
“I didn’t know and I didn’t care. I pressed him anyway, as a friend. He said he couldn’t help me and just got more nervous.”
“And you didn’t suspect something funny was going on?”
“He said that the way the investors had reacted to one slow payment had really upset him,” Lac said. “After what Bobby Ng did to me, I can’t blame him.”
“Like I said, that was unnecessary.”
“So, I don’t know, maybe Lam was nervous about someone like Bobby, someone who might use something more deadly than a baseball bat.”
“You didn’t ask?”
“I wasn’t exactly in full control of my own faculties. All I could think about was how my uncle was going to react.”
Ava glanced at her notebook. “He collected cash, correct?”
“That’s the Vietnamese way.”
“And put it into Bank Linno?”
“That’s what he told me.”
“What do you know about that bank?”
Lac shrugged. “They had one branch here, on College Street. It’s closed now.”
Ava gaped. “How do you know that?”
“I went there. When Lam disappeared, it was one of the few leads I had.”
“And it was closed?”
“I spoke to an accountant who had an office on the same floor and he told me they’d done a weekend flyer. The landlord wasn’t pleased.”
“Did the accountant know anyone who worked there?”
“No, and I did ask. I also followed up with the landlord to see if he would give me the name and phone number of the person who had signed the lease. He did. It was some guy from Indonesia who the landlord was trying to chase down.”
“Did you call Indonesia?”
“I did. The guy wouldn’t take or return my call.”
“Do you have his name?”
“It’s at my office.”
“Could you email it to me, with his phone number?”
“Sure.”
“And the landlord’s name and number as well, if you could.”
Lac furrowed his brow and pressed his lips together. “I’ll do it, but I think you’ll be wasting your time.”
Ava shook her head as she passed him her card. “My email address is there,” she said. “This thing about the branch closing, how odd is that? Taking all that cash from Lam and then, when he runs into financial difficulties, closing its doors . . .”
“Of course it’s weird, but it was hardly a mainstream bank. The office was on the eighth floor of a rundown building, and from what the accountant told me, there were never many customers coming and going.”
“What kind of bank is it? I looked on its website and there was hardly any information.”
“The sign on its door said PRIVATE INVESTMENT BANK, so it probably wasn’t offering any kind of regular service.”
“Did it have a charter?”
“Not that I could find, and I did look.”
“I’m sure you did,” Ava said.
“It just dead-ended.”
“When was the last time you saw or heard from Lam?”
“When I met with him to ask for my uncle’s money back.”
“Did he ever say anything about the bank?”
“Not a word.”
“And you really don’t think Lam took off with the money?”
Lac tossed back his head, his eyes pressed shut. “No, and I wish I did. It would be easier that way, because there would at least be some